relery.untamed
Open Hearts Open Minds
I knew what I wanted to be when I “grew up” when I turned 11 years old in Mrs. Bennet’s 6th grade English Class. I wanted to be a writer. I was reading the book, The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle which was a story about an upper-class 13-year-old girl who boarded a slave ship crossing from England to America in 1832, highlighting themes of gender, socioeconomic status/class, heroism and friendship. The day I finished the book was the day I requested to be excused during that 6th grade English class to go down to the library and start working on the sequel. I needed a place that was quiet with no distractions to mimic a true author’s habitat, obviously. I carried my little blue writing book down to the library everyday for over a month, freshly sharpened pencils in hand, with at least 5 large pink erasers for every one pencil I had. And that's where I began to write my little heart out. I wrote and erased and wrote again, tore out all the pages and started completely over. I felt like I was the main character in the movies I’d seen where the writer is surrounded by crumpled up pieces of paper, coffee mugs surrounding their desk, hanging their heads in their hands while experiencing a “writer’s block”. Replace the coffee mugs with styrofoam cups full of water and eraser remnants and we looked about the same. I think I wrote a whole 14 pages by the end that I felt were “worthy”. I can’t remember if anyone ever read it, but I came home and put it in the keepsake drawer of my dresser where it sat to rest until I found it my senior year of high school. By that point, AP English readings for grades and three varsity sports schedules on top of homework and orchestra had made reading and writing that was once for fun, impossible. I remember pulling it out one day and thumbing through it, proud of 6th grade me. But I also remember thinking, “Why did I ever think I could do this professionally? "Why would I ever have thought I could have been good enough to actually do that?” I'll never be as great as them. I asked a friend the other day when he thought we lose that confidence. The boldness we have as children to try, dance, sing, imagine, and create without fear of judgment or an ounce of doubt. It's likely a complex answer that shapes and evolves as we grow up, influenced by our experiences and our wounds, our interpretations of the world, the expectations we have and the ones that are placed on. us. Something I’ve always admired about children: they are fearless and often take risks, even if they might get hurt. I also wanted to be a meteorologist/astrologist/anything that studied the sky and it’s operations. I used to grab my blankets and go lay on my driveway when I was young or sit on my front porch and look up at the stars nightly, thinking how big the world was and how small I felt. The mysteriousness of it all, the vastness, and the unknown. It was never terrifying to me like the unknown of the ocean is or being lost in the woods. It was just fascinating and trance-like. I got lost in it. My Grandma started buying me educational books with pictures of constellations, space, and stars, and my Dad used to bring out binoculars so I could see the divots in the moon just a LITTLE bit better. I still love the sky just as much as I did then. And then came the lawyer. My Mom told me I’d be great because I was really good at saying “no” and having the last word. I watched Elle Woods in Legally Blonde and used to practice reciting her lines towards the TV in hopes that I might absorb it and sound professional enough to become what she did someday. I also wore lots of pink for a second, but that’s neither here nor there. Then I wanted to be a veterinarian. I got in an argument with my best friend Chelsea when I was 8 and ran home from a sleepover because she killed a spider that I was trying to save. That’s when I learned my heart couldn’t handle that kind of loss. I wanted to be all the things when I was young, and then I started forming what I wanted to be based off of what others told me I should be. Because how the heck else was I going to figure out what I wanted to do for the rest of my life at 17 years old? Beats me. My parents worked for PepsiCo and FritoLay, big corporate companies, and hated their jobs. I knew I didn't want to go anywhere near the business side of the working world, so I followed the "job security" and people service field advice from my parents and at-school advisor who thought I would do well in the medical field. That sounded more up my alley, anyway. I went on to get my Bachelor’s Degree in Kinesiology with a Specialization in Health Promotions from MSU and my Master’s Degree in Occupational Therapy and Science from GVSU which awarded me a career in Occupational Therapy. I combined this with coaching at a Crossfit gym, working at a restaurant, catering, dog sitting and walking, and personal training. I’m not really the type to do just “one thing”. I was working primarily as a PRN/resource float traveling between acute care, inpatient, long term care, and skilled nursing facilities within the healthcare system, growing frustrated with the process and procedures, the formalities, insurance, the “factory system”, and the lack of creativity and authenticity that I was able to execute on a day to day basis. I appreciated the flexibility, the speed, and the lack of pressure I felt to meet standards since I was not a full-time employee, yet working over 40 hours per week and still not receiving benefits including health insurance and comparing myself to my peers who appeared to be doing much less work for way more reward really started to get to me. I felt under-appreciated, under-valued, irritated, and stuck. What other title do I type into a search engine other than "Occupational Therapist" and get the monetary value that I feel I deserve for the schooling I underwent and the debt I accrued? I unfortunately didn't even feel I received that in the position I was already in. I’ll never forget the moment it dawned on me. We were sitting in our main office during lunch, scurrying to catch up on our notes from the morning that no one ever had time to get to. An announcement shouted through the room, “Everyone, let’s take a moment to celebrate Jan! This is her 40th Anniversary working with us and we are so proud of and happy to have had her service all these years.” My heart sank into my stomach and I felt a bulge in the back of my throat. Tears welled in my eyes and I remember thinking, “Is this it? For the next 40 years, is this what I’m supposed to be doing?” Now, don’t take me wrong -- I find this to be EXTREMELY admirable, and I am almost envious at times of the simplicity of life others practice. But I knew her life trajectory wasn’t for ME, due to a hundred different factors that influence why people stay in anything as long as they do. Fulfillment, security, passion, enjoyment, comfort, contentment, excitement, convenience, effort and time invested. Whatever it is. There was dissonance, and I couldn’t sit knowing that would always be there for me. Eventually, everything piled up and I imploded from the inside out. And that’s when I left traditional medicine. I’ve always had a hard time answering the “what” when the “why” came easy. I don’t know WHAT exactly I want to do. I want to do a million things, and I hate that I can’t do it all and that I get so overwhelmed with how many things I want to do that I don’t do any of them at all. But I do have an answer for the “why”. It’s simple to me. I can dress it up or make it more elaborate, but at the center: I just want to help. I want to be someone who makes a difference in big and small ways, and who lives outside of a box or conformity in order to do so. It’s not complicated, and I wish it didn’t have to be. I wish helping was free. I wish helping was unregulated. I wish helping didn’t mean I had to have 67 certifications or letters after my name to prove something to someone or to increase my value to 1/8 of my peers who sit behind a screen. But that’s not the world we live in. During a therapy session, I was asked to describe my “perfect job scenario”. This was my response via e-mail: “My perfect job description…. It has taken me a week with this in the back of my mind and I STILL can’t come to a conclusion. That’s the thing though - I can like just about anything for a short period of time. But after that- it’s gone. I cut my list down to 4 answers even though I had at least 6 more to add. I didn’t want my therapist to think I was COMPLETELY off my rocker. Her response was, “I think you may have won for largest variety of dream careers, which is not a bad thing, but it makes me curious as to what jobs are more 'thinking" brain inspired and what are more heart-centered. The theme I am seeing is that you have a heart to serve, but how can you do this authentically while not going broke and feeling that you cannot fill your cup in the process? When you meditate on your career/life what shows up for you most then? She asked the jackpot question. How can I serve others and do so authentically without going broke, depleting my tank, and losing my flame? Something I’ve been trying to figure out for years and am still working on. In a world where everything costs and the cost continues to grow, when we have to be better than/different than/have something that sells, when there is so much information being put out there that it’s almost impossible to sort through, when it became HARD to help without feeling helpless. What can I do to genuinely, authentically, and whole-heartedly make a true and honest difference on this planet and not completely drown while trying? I still don’t know the answers. But I took a leap of faith and packed my car, and moved to Colorado a month ago to get a step closer to what I’m not sure I’ll ever have entirely figured out. I decided the best chance I had was working at a gym owned and led by people I admire and respect because of the adversity they have faced, the inclusivity they invite, and the work they are doing on this Earth to make people feel less alone and more accepted in any and all states of being. My friend and gym owner, Kevin Ogar, sustained a spinal cord injury after a lifting accident in 2013 that almost cost him his life, and his wife, Shannon, had a stroke which left her with residual vertigo and vestibular/proprioceptive deficits and a facial droop. Together they have made large waves in the Crossfit community by assisting in creating, developing, and advocating for adaptive divisions through programming, certification courses for coaches and trainers to practice inclusion/program adaptations in their spaces, and cultivating a space that is accessible and catering to all abilities. There are a variety of athletes that come to our gym who have traumatic brain injuries, neurological deficits, spinal cord injuries/are seated athletes, and who have other complex diagnoses that invite challenges most of the population will never experience. These are ongoing, everyday, physical mental and emotional trials that impede on their independence, confidence, and overall well-being. Despite the differences, at the end of the day, everyone wants to be treated with respect and with the same amount of hope and aspirations as everyone else. No one wants to be stereotyped or put in a cage with a lock on it. I want to be a part of a movement that breaks the confinement walls our society has trapped different populations of people inside, the ones that are labeled "you can't do this" and "you'll never do that". We've been told by our media and healthcare professionals far too often that squatting over the age of 50 is "not advised", to "be careful" when lifting weights or participating in any high intensity activity, or even worse, "just stay away from it" or "take a pill" when something hurts. We've been over-looked and misinformed. I've seen some incredible outcomes from sheer willingness to try and choosing to just show up when the rest of the world doesn't. I've met some of the strongest, most inspiring humans in the last several years. And now I'm coaching some of them daily. To be a part of something that tells people "you can" and promotes continuous growth, improvement, and constant adaptation to meet someone where they are and help them through tough days is what I get to do for everyone I come across as a coach. I think it's a very under-valued role that wears so many hats. And I think my aspiration is to try to wear as many of those hats as a coach as I possibly can to provide what I think people truly need. Support. Love. Patience. A push. Safety. Instruction. Encouragement. And a place to fall apart, too. I don't know where I'm going, but I'm glad I'm here, where I am, at this very moment in time. Just like most things to me, figuring out exactly what I want to do with my life is not a one-way ticket destination that I land on and say, "I've finally made it!" Some people seem to find that, and I think that's such a gift. But I also think there's something beautiful about the hunting and gathering process. The continuous hunt and search, collecting and gathering as we go, and it being never-ending. Most often we find the greatest treasures hidden on the roads less traveled where most aren't willing to go. I'm on one right now , and can't wait to see where it leads.
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Becoming who I am without the world telling me who to be.-Rachel (R) Elery Archives
March 2021
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